“Seriously, Bri. Are you sure your parents want to see me? They weren’t exactly sad to see me go ten years ago.” I grimaced as I glanced over her shoulder at the Morgans’ picture-perfect house.
“No one wanted to see you go, Josh. They hated the fact that they couldn’t help you before things got too far. Now, come on,” she pushed while yanking our still joined hands.
I broke away with a sigh and nodded. “Okay, Cupcake. Let’s go.”
We climbed the outside steps and Brianna unlocked the front door. She turned to give me a quick raise of her brows before opening it.
“Josh!” Mrs. Morgan ran toward us. “It’s so good to see you!” She draped her arms around me. I stilled for a moment before hugging her back.
Brianna’s mother’s warm welcome surprised me, and any words I could offer in reply lodged in the back of my throat. I thought for sure they’d bid me good fucking riddance the day I left for boot camp. The whole damn borough knew everything about me, all the trouble I’d gotten into and why I was sent away. She was still the same woman who baked me my own walnut-less batch of brownies when we were kids because of my nut allergy and fed me dinner all those nights. I wouldn’t have wanted someone like my troublemaking teenage self anywhere near my daughter.
“Let me look at you. No more curls.” She frowned as she glided her hand over my buzzed hair.
I chuckled and shook my head. “Nope. I had to get rid of them before I left, and I got used to it this short, I guess.”
“Josh!” I turned to Mr. Morgan’s booming voice. “Good to see you, son!” He reached out to shake my hand, and I stood in place for a long minute before I took it.
“I told you they’d be happy to see you,” Brianna whispered in my ear. I laughed and gave her a reluctant nod. It still felt surreal. I had disappointed everyone in this house and didn’t feel worthy of such a warm welcome back.
“I didn’t think you’d be so happy to see me, to be honest.”
“We loved you,” Mr. Morgan grumbled. “It was that crowd you ran with that we didn’t like. And now you stopped. So, we’re good.” He slapped me on the back. “Want a beer? I’ll give you one instead of you and my daughter sneaking them from me.”
I turned to Brianna’s widened eyes and we shared a silent laugh. He had us on that one. “Sure.”
Brianna followed her mother into the kitchen, and I found a seat on the couch. Mr. Morgan hadn’t changed at all. I smiled at the grunts erupting out of his throat every time the Rangers missed a goal on the TV screen.
“So, I hear you’re a business owner,” he said, while his eyes stayed glued to the action on the ice.
“Well, sort of. I run my Uncle Billy’s New York shop. I’m in charge of everything, but he’s the owner.”
“Hey, that’s all right, kid. Don’t downplay it.” He reached for the remote on the end table and swiveled his recliner in my direction. “My daughter has an extra pep in her step since you’ve been back. It’s nice to see.” The corners of his mouth curved into a quick smile before it faded. “Don’t break her heart again, got it?”
I opened my mouth to say something, but closed it. I broke her heart, over and over, yet here she still was. She reassured me many times that the awful way I acted toward her before I left didn’t matter, which only made the guilt worse. Having her back in my life eased an empty ache—empty because she wasn’t mine. I nodded before Mrs. Morgan called us in from the kitchen.
We gathered around the dining room table, Mrs. Morgan insisting on making my plate before I sat down.
“You’re getting the royal treatment, Josh.” Brianna’s father gave his wife a smirk. “The rest of us have to feed ourselves.”
She rolled her eyes before turning back to me. “So, I hear business is good, Josh.” Mrs. Morgan slid into her seat next to me. “Is your father still in South Carolina?”
“Yes, in an assisted living facility near Uncle Billy. He didn’t want to go at first, but he’s doing okay now.”
My father and I had a better relationship now than when I left, but things were still tense between us. Uncle Billy stepped in where he wouldn’t and saved me. It was hard not to resent the shit out of him for not helping his own kid and putting me in that position to begin with, but the sting had dulled over the years.
“So, I have some news,” Brianna piped in from the other side of where I sat. I exhaled at a welcome change in subject.
“Well, I never told you guys this, but I wrote a book. I didn’t plan on doing anything with it, but a friend of mine knew an editor with a good reputation and a reasonable rate, and I . . .” She grimaced as she traced the rim of her glass with her index finger. “I sent it to her yesterday.”
My eyes widened as I fought the urge to bolt over to her and scoop her in my arms. “You did? That is awesome, Bri!”
“A book?” Mr. Morgan asked. “Like, a full novel and everything?”
“Yeah, Dad. The whole thing. I wasn’t going to send it, and it’s scary knowing she’s actually going to be reading it and pulling it apart.” She dropped her hand on my forearm. “But I figured if I didn’t break a leg when Josh taught me to ride a bike, this may not be so bad.” She grinned at me, and like the last time I sat at this table when I was seventeen, she took my fucking breath away.
“It won’t be, Cupcake. You just watch. Remember us when you’re famous.” I chuckled, making her smile beam even brighter.
“Yeah, yeah. We’ll see.” She dug her fork into a piece of pot roast and laughed.
